


It all began with the Letter

by Roofersaurous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Creature Draco, M/M, Other, Potions Master Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5214953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roofersaurous/pseuds/Roofersaurous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter receives a letter from an old enemy, Draco Malfoy. What does he want now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys it's my first story hehe, I guess I kinda ship Draco and Harry but I doubt there will be any ero stuff (for now) so do read on! I'm not sure where this will go, but do throw me some inspirations and suggestions if you feel the need to! Thanks love yall :)
> 
> Basically I was reading this fanfic on fanfic about One Piece and shipping stuff, and there was a similar(?) story? With different characters and all, but these characters and letter contents and plot is somewhat different. :)
> 
> Disclaimers: Well these characters that will be appearing later on OBVIOUSLY don't belong to me. They belong to the authoress, J. K. Rowling. Unless you are sooo under-read, you are probably already aware. No profit is being made from this story, it is merely a product of a lack of active love life (HAHA JK)
> 
> Comments and kudos make the world go round (my world, to say the least) so GO LEAVE 'EM YES TQVM

The war was finally over.

Of course, war in itself is never over. Families were broken, lives were lost- one can never say that war has ever been finished. To say the least, the fighting part of war was over, but it is only in finished battles that healing begins, a journey that can only be described as a long and painful one.

Harry Potter had won, to no one's surprise (except perhaps, Voldemort), and everyone soon began the long and arduous process of rebuilding and recovering what was lost. Indeed, some things could never be recovered (Harry thought back to the moment he returned to the Great Hall and saw all the bodies lined up, realising for the first time that it had lost the magical feeling he used to get whenever he entered it, just minutes after they claimed victory) but others could be mended. Peace was far from being achieved; the number of trials the Ministry would hold regarding the Death Eaters in the months that followed certainly proved the point.

The Malfoys had been spared the stay in Azkaban (following Harry's intervention during their trials) although they were fined heavily and put in the top priority Ministry watch-list, but the old money they had was apparently much more than anyone could fathom and they continued to lead rich extravagant lives. Not so much could be said about public opinion regarding the Malfoy family though. Public sentiment towards Death Eaters, even those cleared of charges, were, to say the least, less than pretty.

Harry Potter had always known things would never go the way he had planned, or imagined. Although things had always felt right with Ginny Weasley, 'She was the One!', he finally realised that it wouldn't work out between the two of them. The joy he used to feel as he watched her eyes light up and sparkle when talking about certain issues had dimmed, and he no longer felt the same passion towards her after the war. After many nights of wild drinking and waking up in his own vomit, he finally decided he could drag it on no more.

Breaking up with Ginny had to be one of the hardest things he had ever done.

He felt guilty, watching her eyes well up with tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks as she took the information head on, the brave Gryffindor that she was, but he wasn't feeling guilty because she was heartbroken or that it had to end, but because he felt a huge sense of relief once their relationship was finally over. People don't normally feel this way when their relationships are over, he mentally chided himself.

It wasn't long before a job offer from the Ministry arrived on his doorstep, promising him a high-ranking Auror position, but not wanting to arrive at such a position simply due to his name and the scar on his forehead, Harry declined, choosing to work his way up the Auror ranks himself.

Things had been rather ordinary and smooth sailing, as far as mundane days go, and Harry had assumed that it would always remain that way. Who's to say that things wasn't about to go the way he thought they would, again?

_____________

Harry Potter was irritated. As much as he loved his job as an Auror; the action, the satisfaction of catching evil-doers (the list goes on), he hated the long reports that his boss expected him to conjure into his office after he had dealt with all sorts of situations, more often exhausting ones than not. This often meant that Harry had to work into the wee hours of the morning, and upon completion and submission of the reports, would then allow himself to collapse onto his bed and take the much needed rest. So tonight was no different, or so he thought.

Waves of irritation washed over Harry. He glared at the pieces of parchment splashed on the mahogany desk in front of him as scathingly as he could, willing them to write themselves, then disappear. They didn't, to no one's surprise. He suppressed an urge to roll his eyes and finally started to work on them. He had reports to complete, and deadlines to meet.

' _Now how am I going to begin this report?_ ' he thought in exasperation, inches close to ripping his hair out, ' _Do I just write about how this seemingly harmless elderly lady, became so irked by her husband of 99 years, that she decided to hex his facecloth to wrap around his genitalia that it was inevitably rendered useless?? One can't just go about writing these things!_ '

Harry groaned inwardly, running a tanned, muscular hand through his thick, messy hair, a habit he seemed to have picked up from his days at Hogwarts. While worrying about Voldemort, he had acquired this quirk that always surfaced whenever he was troubled. Or sneered at by Draco Malfoy. Harry subconsciously let out a growl as his thoughts wandered towards Malfoy, the blonde who had always made his life absolutely terrible in Hogwarts. Malfoy, that poncy git, who had taken the trouble to sneer and jeer at Harry's every word, action and movement. Granted, Malfoy might have been the hottest guy in Hogwarts (Harry shuddered at the thought) but even that didn't give him the right to make Harry's life almost totally unbearable.

With all that being said, or thought, rather, Harry had not seen or heard about the Malfoys since the trials, where the Malfoy family was last seen slinking away after their loyalties to the fallen Dark Lord were broken and he had spoken in their defence.

'They do know how to keep a low profile' Harry mused out loud to the empty room, 'Seeing that they have escaped from the sneaky and unscrupulous eyes of Rita Skeeter for so many years now. I wonder how has life treated them so far...'

Harry clicked his tongue in annoyance. The thought of Draco Malfoy irked him, as it always did. He was glad to know that some things never changed. He rose abruptly from the chair he was seated on and sauntered out of his room towards the kitchen counter to pour himself a cup of coffee. He would have to burn the midnight oil today, he silently noted, as he gulped the warm coffee down, cringing at the drink's sharp bitterness.

Seconds after he finished the coffee, Harry heard a loud thump come from behind him. His quick Auror reflexes did not fail him as he spun around, wand outstretched at the cloud of soot emerging from the fireplace, along with the creature that had come down the chimney and was scuttling out of the cloud of soot. Harry's eyes widened and he chuckled as he watched a small, soot-covered owl struggle to its feet, holding a rather intriguing now darkened letter in its talons, marveling at the care which it took while holding the package, since owls were known for their sharp talons. The owl gave an indignant screech as it shook itself as clean as it could get and glided over towards Harry, dropping its package into Harry's outstretched hands. Thanking the owl absentmindedly, he conjured a few mice as an apology for his filthy chimney, and hurried back to his desk to open this mysterious letter.


	2. The Letter's Contents (I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me :)

Harry returned to his room, and seated himself on the armchair by his table. He turned over the envelope, but there was nothing greatly  telling about it, apart from the mildly familiar, cursive yet neat handwriting of his name on the front.

' _HARRY POTTER'_

A frown involuntarily crept on his face. Where had he seen this writing before? More importantly, who in their right mind would send a letter at this time of the day? He swallowed his musings as he glanced at the clock on his desk. It was  _three_  in the morning? He had better get over this letter before continuing with the report, or good ol' Robertson would have his head served cold on a silver platter. He shuddered at the memory of an enraged Robertson having a go at Dean the last time Dean had gotten drunk after a particularly tough case and failed to produce a report the very next day. Swiftly ripping off the envelope, Harry finally laid eyes on the letter's contents. 

' _Potter_ -' The letter began.

Harry paused as that voice in his head began to read the words on the page in an alarmingly aloof drawl, and the words began to look increasingly familiar. He paused, pondering about the words on the page as they reeked of someone he might have known. Who was it? Harry absentmindedly ran his hand through his tousled hair and continued reading the letter in his hands.

' _Potter_ -

_It has been rather long since I've said your name. How have things been? I'm sure your life has been filled with less rage fits since we both graduated, after all, your number one nemesis hasn't been ruffling your fur the wrong way for years now. But of course, the purpose of this letter isn't too gloat for I'm sure I've done enough of that during our time in school.'_

"Someone who was in Hogwarts the same time as me then," Harry deduced (Genius deduction, really)," But a nemesis? I don't go around making enemies? Unless..." His thoughts wandered to a certain blonde. "He wouldn't have any business writing to me, right?" Harry questioned his empty room. (Perhaps he should be questioning his sanity instead?)

' _But I digress. See, I never got round to thanking you for what you did for my family back then. Certainly, Mother did inform me of what she had told the Dark Lord in the forest when he asked if you were alive, and perhaps you were repaying the favour when I refused to identify you in the Manor that night, but Father has been nothing short of evil in his treatment towards you and I must say I hadn't expected you to go out of your way to speak up for all of us during the trials and actually being physically present. It's not that I would rather Father be in Azkaban, Merlin forbid, I love the man, as blonde as he is,_  (Harry stifled a chuckle at this point)  _but you have my deepest gratitude. Especially since I know how much you hate being in the spotlight, but Potter, you have always been intriguing, to say the least. So thank you Potter, I, no, we really appreciate your efforts._

_Now that that's over, the other main point of this letter. Since I'm practically a dead man by the time you read this, I'm sure my pride will hold up just fine. Yes, you read that correctly. Since you've received this letter, it's safe to say that I am dead. However, seeing that I am so infamous, I'm sure that the news of my passing would be reported soon, on The Prophet, I'll wager. I can almost imagine the headlines right now, " **Draco Malfoy- The Deatheater that has finally met Death'** " '_

Harry reeled in shock.

 


	3. The Letter's Contents (II), and a Surprise Visitor

Harry reeled in shock.

 _Does that mean- What? Why?_  

Confused at the sudden turn in events, Harry hastened his reading.

" _Well I'm sure that must have shocked you, did it not, Potter? I, Draco Malfoy, your arch-enemy, is writing a farewell letter to you! Well before you throw my beautifully handwritten letter away, or_ Incendo _it, do remember it would be the last time you would be hearing from me. It can't be as bad as all my insults throughout the years, can it? You'll never know unless you try, Potter, and there's certainly no harm in this. After all, I'm dead by the time you're reading this. To be honest, its awfully amusing that I'm sitting comfortably in the Manor, with a cuppa in one hand, while writing about my death in the other._

_Let's take this back to Hogwarts, shall we? Remember when we were first years, on that staircase? I arrogantly stuck my hand out to you, and told you that some wizarding families are better than others. Might have offended you there and then. Honestly, I hadn't meant for that to offend you, its just that I never ~~exactly~~ knew how to make friends. That was a pretty ugly scene indeed. From then on, you had to endure all the smirks, jeers, sneers, insults, hexes and jinxes that I threw your way. I apologise for my immature, childish behaviour. Really, I do. It was just that since you were in Gryffindor, always together with Granger and Weasley (the Golden Trio, you three were) and I in Slytherin, there was just no other way I could get your attention._

_I really don't know when this sick obsession of mine for you began, Potter. Perhaps when you turned down my friendship request? Or when you easily retrieved Longbottom's remembrall, with such ease on the broom? Whatever it was, I don't know. All I knew was that I needed you to notice me. Pay attention to me. Hate me. Whatever it was. I wanted your undivided attention. I never knew you were so daft, Potter. Was it not obvious that I had had such a huge obsession for you? Perhaps you should tuck those ~~perfect~~ messy locks of yours behind your ears, perhaps then you would have been able to see past our animosity, my feelings of supposed hate. If you were any more observant, you might have noticed my constant stares at you during Potions and while in the Great Hall._

_Of course, I conveniently turned my stares into glares, simple, really. Have you never wondered how I was able to counter your looks every single time with those 'specialty' trademark icy glares of mine? Merlin Potter, you must have been the densest wizard I have ever met. Your eyes captivated me, I would never have been able to look away if you continued to stare back. Those deep emerald green eyes, that looked like they could read my mind, kept me awake for many nights. It took me years to get past my self-denial and think, did I really have a thing for Harry Potter? I don't know, I still loathe my ~~repulsive~~ behaviour. But that again, is besides the point. Since this would be my final letter, I would just like to inform you Potter, I ~~am~~  was in love with you."_

Harry froze momentarily, running his hand through his hair again. He struggled to make sense of this increasingly absurd situation. Draco Malfoy was dead. He, Harry Potter, was reading a confession by a dead man. A dead man he absolutely hated, he hastily corrected himself. A few taps on the window, and Harry rose to his feet to open the window, to let the owl deliver its newspaper to him. He took one look at the front page and nearly did a double take. Merlin, the letter was accurate.

Sprawled across the front page of The Daily Prophet was the headline news of Draco Malfoy's death.

* * *

 

Throwing the newspaper aside, Harry continued reading and re-reading the letter over and over again. A letter from his enemy informing him of his demise. He hated Malfoy... right? Why then was his chest constricting the way it was now? Harry's surroundings blurred, and it took him a while to realize that his eyes were filling up with tears. They spilled out of his eyes, dripping onto the dark brown desk. Harry roughly rubbed the liquid out of his eyes. _'Just dust in my eyes_ ', he convinced himself, forcing his eyes back onto the letter.

His eyes fell upon the last paragraph in the letter.

" _I suppose you must absolutely detest me by now. I am truly sorry. I do not know when this all began, but I'm certain you would definitely hate me (and possibly hex me into oblivion) if I ever told you the truth. It has been bothering me, and I suppose I really must get this off my chest, even if it is on my deathbed. So I guess this concludes it. I must be going, I have to do tea with my mother. Don't think too much about this, Potter, (although I am quite sure thinking is beyond you)  just go about your daily The-Boy-Who-Lived business. Toodles for now, and forever._

_Sneers, jeers and apologies,_

**_DRACO MALFOY_ **

* * *

 

Harry leaned back on his chair, thoroughly disturbed. He hated Malfoy, so why was his vision blurring up again? Why were his cheeks burning from the hot tears that were trickling down from his eyes? Harry almost always had answers to everything, but he certainly did not have answers to this. He gazed in a daze, with surprise and slight horror at the parchment in front of him.

'That... That couldn't be true, could it? Malfoy's way too evil to die,' Harry growled out into the room, to no one in particular. (He definitely needs to go for a mental check up at St Mungo's now.)

"Unfortunately, you're right, Potter." a sharp voice rang out from across the room behind him. Harry stopped short. It couldn't- It wouldn't-  _It **was**._  He could hear the fatigue, the pain and the agony in the familiar voice behind him.

'Malfoy...?' Harry breathed,- In relief? Joy? He wasn't sure- his voice barely audible as he spun around, eyes widening at the sight behind him.

"Yes, Malfoy indeed." The blonde grimaced and a half-hearted smile graced his elegant features. "I take it that you've read my little..." he trailed off, uncertainty flickering across his haunting silver eyes, but merely for seconds, "Letter, " he finished, " I apologize, that was a mistake on my part" he added briskly, taking long strides towards Harry's desk, wincing with every step he took.

Harry's jaw dropped as he gazed at the blonde. His usually neat blonde hair was falling all over his face, some coated in a dark red.  _'Must be blood'_  Harry noted to himself. Malfoy's usual cool and elegant demeanour was obviously absent, and the way he carried himself with that air of superiority wasn't present. The blonde was injured, and badly at that. Harry was astonished that he hadn't collapsed due to excessive blood loss by now, but this would probably explain why Malfoy was swaying as he walked.

"Shut your mouth, Potter." Malfoy snarled, " I'm not a pretty sight as you can see. Got into a bit of a fight, I must admit, Auror business shit and all. Guess they must have thought I was dead" He laughed dryly, which turned into a violent coughing fit, and gestured at the newspaper on the desk.

'Why... What.... How...?' Harry started, but was unable to continue his sentences as the words seemed to fail him. Malfoy frowned, heaving himself onto the chair.

"I suppose I owe you an explanation, Potter," he sighed wearily, "Sit. This might take some time."


	4. The Explanation

Harry sat himself on his bed, not taking his eyes off Draco. Wasn't he supposed to be dead? It was all over the papers! But the Malfoy in front of Harry looked and sounded very real indeed, heck, even the way he carried himself seemed just like the real thing. His eyes flicked across Malfoy's body, taking in every single detail he could as he listened to Malfoy's explanation.

"To tell the truth..." the blonde began, faltering slightly before pulling himself together, "Honestly, I had meant for that to reach you only when I had died. I have a friend working for that blasted newspaper see, and I told him to send out the three letters I had prepared beforehand when the news of my death came about. To my parents, Pansy and you, Potter. I managed to intercept the other two before they reached," he smirked grimly, holding up two similar blood-stained envelopes, "Guess I was too late with yours. I suppose I'll  _Obliviate_ you now."

As Draco reached for his wand in his tattered suit, Harry's hand shot out.

' _Expelliarmus!_ _Accio Malfoy's wand!'_

The wand flew to Harry's outstretched palm as Harry turned to Draco, anger flashing across his eyes.

'And who are you to decide that I didn't like what I read?' Harry roared furiously,' What if I liked it!? And what are you doing in my apartment? I'm sure I have tons of wards up-' Harry would continued raging, but he was interrupted by a strange noise coming from Malfoy's direction. Harry took a deep breath and looked at Malfoy, away from the spot he had been staring at on the floor.

Harry's eyes widened with surprise.

The usually stoic blonde was clasping a bloodied hand across his mouth, a strangled gasp barely escaping, and tears were flowing down his cheeks. Upon noticing Harry's gaze, he roughly rubbed away the tears and retorted with a slightly trembling voice, "So you...? Don't you hate me?" Draco stood up abruptly, frowned, holding a palm to his temple while blinking furiously and tried to make his way towards the figure on the bed. In a blink of an eye, the blonde's legs gave way and he collapsed onto the hard floor with an exceptionally loud thud, but not before a single word escaped his lips.

" _Harry_..."


	5. Thereafter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Psst I placed a pun in this chapter I wonder if yall will find it hehe comment if you do? My friends laughed at me when I showed it to them though :/ )
> 
> Quoting my friend (I question his sanity really) ...
> 
> "Onwards, to Narnia!"

Draco awoke to the comfort of his own four-poster bed's soft silken sheets in his apartment. The sun was already hanging high; judging from it's position in the azure sky he estimated it to be around ten in the morning. Stifling a yawn, he swept himself off the tempting silky sheets and headed towards his personal washroom . As he brushed his teeth as usual out of habit, he had a sudden nagging subconscious feeling in the back of his head. He was forgetting something. Something important, yet seemingly scary.

Glancing at the large mirror spanning the length of his bathroom, Draco did a double take and dropped the toothbrush in his hand. The reflection staring back at him was neatly bandaged in various places; his forehead, arms and even across his torso. Had he been in a fight? Who had bandaged him? And most importantly of all, why did he seem to not remember anything- anything at all. Washing up, Draco peered at his reflection, a quizzical look dawning upon his fine facial features. What exactly was in that span of memories that he seemed to have lost?

As Draco headed towards his kitchen, a sudden sharp pang of pain came upon him and clutching his head, he stumbled down the hallway and fell into his favourite armchair. Flashes of his 'lost' memories flooded back into his mind as he let out a series of uncontrolled grunts and groans. When Draco finally recalled everything right up till the part where he had collapsed in front of Potter, the pain in his head subsided, and left him gasping for air just like a goldfish out of water. He sat up from his sprawling posture on the chair with a start, realising that there was a gap in his memory from the time immediately after he had collapsed in Potter's house to this moment, where he was back in his own apartment.

Draco rose from his armchair with a frown plastered on his face, and started pacing around the hall, trying his best to make out anything at all. From the corner of his eyes, he realised that there seemed to be a silvery wispy specter in the corner of the hall. He spun around, eyes flashing, and he could not believe the sight in front of him. The silvery figure was a Patronus, not in the shape of any animal he had ever seen, but one of which he was very closely acquainted with. It was not his Patronus, but the figure in front of him was himself.

The Patronus was in Draco Malfoy's likeness.

Mouth agape at the rather queer figure in front of him, Draco could do nothing but stare. The Patronus chuckled silently, ran a silvery hand through it's wispy hair and gestured for Draco to follow it. Hundreds, no, thousands of thoughts were racing through Draco's mind. Why did the Patronus look like him? Is it even possible for a witch or wizard to conjure a Patronus in a wizard's likeness? But more importantly, who was the one who had conjured that Patronus currently striding down his hallway?

Curiosity overcame him and he followed the Patronus down the hallway. It stopped abruptly, pointed at a folded parchment on the floor by the door. While smoothing down its silvery suit, it bowed and with yet another silent chuckle, vanished. Draco gazed at where it had stood for a moment, and moved forward to pick up the piece of parchment by the door.

* * *

 

_I'll see you tonight at 8._

_Sowsmeade._

_H.P_.

 


	6. The Chase

Draco blinked at the note.

A shiver of a new unknown emotion ran through him, and shaking it off, he strode back to his room, starting about his daily activities. Time flew by, and the day passed quicker than he'd expected. Before long, it was close to the specified time and, not wanting to be late, he scuttled about getting ready for their... Date? Draco stopped in his tracks as the thought that he was going on a date with the golden boy ran through his head. A small warm crimson cloud crept up his  cheeks as he smirked and shook the thought out of his fantasizing mind.

"I'm sure Potter must have something to discuss about that letter," Draco murmured under his breath, " It is most definitely not a date... Not a date... "

Grabbing a neatly ironed button-up white shirt and long pants, Draco dressed himself in a jiffy, and prepared to deatomise to Sowsmeade. At times like this, he was really proud of his intelligence. In his fear, no, the word was caution, of being a Deatheater, Draco had put his close-to-genius brain to work and devised a new method for his travels. Apparating was simply too dangerous, mainly because of the numerous restrictions such as the anti-apparation spells, the unpredictable pop (or louder) sound and the limited range of apparating. His new form of travelling, deatomising, eliminates all of the aforementioned issues. Apart from that, upon arrival, one would be able to scout around the area in an inexplicable shroud for up to ten minutes. It was totally a much quicker and safer method of travel, especially for one of his background.

Within seconds, Draco arrived at Sowsmeade with plenty of time to spare. The antique clock on the wall in a neighbouring clock shop chimed that it was 7.30. Having not been in this part of town for so long, and throwing caution into the wind, Draco remained in the shroud while re-exploring the area. As he walked past familiar shops from his days in Hogwarts, he spotted Potter squeezing his way past the large crowds. A smirk formed on his face and Draco begun to tail Potter. However, along the way, Draco noticed something unusual. As Potter was moving through the crowd, there were two other burly wizards trailing after him at a distance.

Alarm bells started to ring in Draco's head. Why were these men following Potter? Could it have something to do with their meeting? Glancing around warily, Draco spotted at least two more pairs of such wizards. Moving quickly, Draco weaved through the crowd and caught up with the golden boy.

" _Potter."_ Draco hissed, seething," A trap? And here I thought I was the unscrupulous one. I should never have come. I thought that you honestly wanted to talk, that you had changed, that perhaps this would be different. But now I know I was wrong, I never should've thought you wouldn't sink so low. Goodbye Harry Potter." Malfoy spat, enraged, a snarl forming.

Harry Potter stopped in his tracks. He definitely heard Draco raging at him, but when he turned towards the direction where the words seemed to be coming from, there was no one there.

..."Goodbye Harry Potter."

Harry's tanned face turned ashen and a wave of confusion struck him. What was this trap that Draco was talking about? Why was he so mad? And what was with this goodbye he was speaking about? They hadn't even sat down and talked about that letter yet!

A clock in a nearby shop cried that it was 7.40 and Draco cursed inwardly. His time in the shroud was up, and it dissipated almost immediately. He saw Potter's look of utmost surprise as he suddenly appeared in front of him. Harry started to speak, but was interrupted by loud gruff shouts echoing from the burly men around them in the crowd. "There he is! That traitor is still alive! GET HIM! " Draco shot Harry a look of total disgust, and started deatomising. What he didn't count on was that Harry's arm shot out at the last minute and grabbed on the Draco.

"Merlin, get off me Potter! This- This isn't safe for two to travel..." Draco cried frantically as he felt his atoms dissipate...

The next thing Harry knew was that he was falling into darkness, while holding ever so tightly to Malfoy's arm.

 


	7. ???

The despair Draco felt was overwhelming.

Despite the fact that he had only a small part of his consciousness with him, he could completely comprehend the severity of the situation. Deatomising was not a proven-safe method of travel, it merely worked well for a single person; himself. He did not know the extent of Harry's actions, but perfectly understood that when he arrived back at his apartment, Harry could be gone. He could also have had his atoms and molecules rearranged along the way, perhaps into some freak or have a number of his memories gone. Fear and guilt surged through Draco as the seconds passed felt like an eternity to him. Draco felt the travelling method's trademark ending shudder pass through him, and braced himself for whatever situation that would present itself...

Rather ill-prepared for the landing, upon arriving in his apartment, Draco stumbled and tumbled over a stool. He crashed onto the parquet flooring, wincing slightly before letting out a loud "oomph" as a small weight landed on his stomach seconds after, knocking the wind out of him. The small creature that was holding tightly onto his arm was straddling him.

A wave of confusion washed over him as, for a split second, Draco simply gazed at the pair of emerald green eyes. Then the realisation sunk in and Draco sat up, plucking the creature off him and setting it down on the floor. The questions raced through his mind (at far too many fps).

"What's your name? I'm Draco." Draco inquired, slightly apprehensive of the response he would receive, if any at all.

"Hello Draco..." murmured the creature, "I'm Harry." The shabbily dressed boy slowly arose and brushed himself down. "Am I not staying with Uncle Vernon this holiday? Are you a wizard...?" The boy slowly trailed off as his wide curious eyes gazed at everything in the living room with an awestruck expression, mouth agape. He scuttled across the room and stared at the pictures of various moving people on the mantle above the fireplace, and amazed, reached out to touch the figures.

"Harry Potter?"

The boy froze, arm still stretched out, and cried out almost immediately, "I'm sorry I won't do it again please don't hit me or send me to my room I haven't had dinner I promise I'll be a good boy I won't do it again please!" He reclaimed his arm and hugged his body, shaking.

Taken aback at the boy's sudden outburst, Draco walked up to him and turned him to face Draco.

"I won't do any of that to you, I promise. You can make yourself at home here. I just wanted to ask you, is your name Harry Potter?" Draco asked solemnly. Thoughts about the boy's past started to well up in Draco's mind as he gazed at the trembling, malnutritioned boy in front of him, who simply nodded in response, eyes wide and fearful. Just what has this poor boy been through, Draco definitely could not imagine. He would have a lot to do now, but first, the more pressing matter at hand: Young Harry Potter.

 


	8. Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part will have new bits in it like this other perspective in italics (okay to be exact it isn't in this chapter yet it'll be in the next). Anyway stuff that are being thought are also in italics. Oh and I borrowed an idea, that cute-ass time skip from one of the other fics I read recently but screw my memory I can't remember the author damnit :(

ⓗⓟⓓⓜ♡ⓗⓟⓓⓜ♡ⓗⓟⓓⓜ♡ⓗⓟⓓⓜ

In the confusion, Draco, and perhaps even young Potter, had forgotten that it was dinner time. As the clocks in Draco's apartment rang out (it was eight in the night), a large rumble emerged from the shivering terrified boy. With mild surprise that such a loud sound could have come from such a small boy, Draco gazed in amusement at the small boy, a slight smirk forming on his face. But what Draco had found amusing, seemed to horrify the boy. A look came over the boy, a look that Draco recognised, a look that meant the boy knew, or thought he knew, that he was in trouble. He backed into the wall behind him, afraid of consequences that, for once, would not be thrust upon him. Bemused, Draco simply left Potter to cower against the wall as he made his way towards the kitchen to prepare their meal. He was definitely not one to baby others, even if the 'others' in question was young Harry Potter.

' _Kids will be kids, and since he probably doesn't know magic, there's no harm leaving him on his own. I'll just go do up dinner,_ ' Draco thought to himself.

With magic, cooking up the delicious spread that soon laid on the dining table was accomplished in mere minutes. Steamy hot dishes were sprawled over the table - mashed potatoes with gravy of the most perfect brown, buttered rice with fat corn peeking through the grains of rice, smoked peppered duck - you name it. The food looked good enough to be sold in any well established diner, no one would believe Draco had cooked up that storm if they hadn't seen it for themselves. Feeling fairly pleased with himself, Draco headed back to the living room to invite Potter to dinner. It's funny how he was panicking just a few moments ago, but yet he was now calmly getting Potter to go and eat. Sometimes, even Draco didn't understand himself.

As he walked, falling back into his old habit, Draco called out," Hey Potter, dinner's ready. Come and eat." He waited a short while for a response, but when he didn't receive any, a frown settled on his face and he hurried to where he last saw Potter. The sight before his eyes was mildly interesting, somehow Harry had managed to find a quill and some parchment, and was busy drawing something on it. Walking closer, Draco saw that it was a rather stunning sketch of himself in a rather unglamorous position (on the floor with Harry on him) and immediately, rather annoyed, remarked.

"While I fancy myself being drawn so stunningly, I'm afraid it's time for dinner Harry Potter. Let's go, it's not early. "

Harry turned and looked at Draco, wide-eyed, and asked in amazement," There's food for me?" In that moment, Harry saw Draco as a benevolent God that provided him with food, especially since the Dursleys would only let him eat their leftovers, which was obviously close to none (considering their sizes).

"Yeah hurry up."

When they reached the dining table, Harry sat on the chair, watching as Draco swept up generous portions of each item and piled them onto Harry's large dinner plate. ' _He's wonderful. No one has ever prepared so much food for me before!'_  Harry thought to himself in awe of the blonde in front of him. However, a small discomforting feeling nudged at him from a portion of his brain, a memory that existed even though technically he had not been through those experiences yet, seeing that he had 'went back in time'.

The rest of dinner went by uneventfully, as Draco chewed thoughtfully on his food, while Harry gobbled every morsel down, and even asked (slightly apprehensive at first but grew unreserved soon after) for seconds and thirds.

As it was, Draco was contemplating on what he should do next. He would first have to keep Harry Potter alive, needless to say. Feeding him, bathing and clothing him, entertaining him? The thought of entertaining young Potter sent chills down his spine. Undoubtedly, Draco didn't like kids. The feeding and clothing him part was doable, but Harry Potter would have to amuse himself- Ah. Since Harry seemed to enjoy sketching, that could keep him occupied. Swallowing his last bite, Draco immediately conjured up a quill, enchanted so its ink never runs out, together with a stack of bound parchments and handed them over to Harry.

"Here, it's yours."

\--------AsHarrydrewDracoflew--------

As the night passed on, Harry gleefully filled up pages after pages of the parchment with detailed sketches and scenes of various places, while Draco slipped out of the apartment to purchase numerous rare and/or hard-to-get ingredients like dittany and fluxweed. They were once common ingredients but recently their numbers been declining sharply. Of course, the money was not of any concern, for the Malfoys had been allowed to keep their immense wealth (and also considering the money in Gringotts, let's just say that it wasn't all that the Malfoys possessed).

Although Draco was a genius, he hadn't any clue as to what would be required to form an aging potion- no one was interested in growing older. His best bet was while using the recipe for the de-aging potions, reverse the ingredients - that is, use ingredients from the opposite spectrum. The ingredients spectrum, something that was not taught in Hogwarts by the potions master, but was taught to Draco when his Godfather, Professor Snape, made periodic visits to the Malfoy Manor, when the potions-loving godson was merely a young child. The spectrum was the reason why bezoars cure most poisons, because they're located opposite the poisonous ingredients on the spectrum. But the problem was, there were too many ingredients, and too little time. Draco didn't know if Harry's current state would be stable.

He would need to hurry.

 


	9. In which it shall be named Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I digress but-  
> OMG did yall know in the last HP movie although it was cut out but Draco supposedly had run to Harry and threw him his wand after Harry came back to life and fell out of Hagrid's arms omgtoocute why did they cut that scene out dayum!!

 - oOo D oOo R oOo A oOo R oOo R oOo Y oOo -

_10.20pm_ _01/12/20XX Monday_

_Today I made a new friend and he has really pretty blonde hair and his name is Draco. He looks scary but I think that he is nice. He gave me this book to draw in. I think I will draw lots and lots of pretty pictures and give them to him. I'm tired._

 - oOo D oOo R oOo A oOo R oOo R oOo Y oOo -

 After Harry was ushered to the guest bedroom next to Draco's bedroom and was soundly asleep (Draco had double checked and triple checked himself), then did Draco's work truly start. Potion brewing. Since the time of the Malfoy’s defecting up till now, Draco had earned his keep through brewing extremely tough potions (although it was not exactly necessary), partly due to boredom, and partly due to his love for the said act. Through years of practice Draco had polished his art, such that by merely observing the shades of the liquids in the cauldron he was able to discern which and how much of the next ingredient to add. He was a genius through and through, and would surely have made his godfather beam with pride.

Unbeknownst to many, Draco was a very cautious and efficient man. Within hours, he had brewed so many varieties of the ‘supposed’ potion he had to make for Harry to return back to his normal age. After briefly noting down what he had added into the last potion labelled ‘Z’, Draco deatomised out of the house to find test subjects for now, and by test subjects, he meant stray cats and dogs. The dismal state of the number of strays helped him in his task of acquiring test subjects; there were still numerous once-pets, cats and dogs, roaming the streets, looking for the love of a witch or wizard, which was all but a grim reminder of the times before the war when these animals were cherished in their households. As he took animal after animal off the streets, individually deatomising with them just like he had with Harry Potter, he noted down in the same notebook that every single animal (there were at least 26) had been changed from a grown animal to either a kitten or a puppy.

“At least this is constant…” Draco muttered to himself, knitting his brows in frustration as he conjured numerous cages to store the animals while chanting a silencing charm onto the cages. Holding back a huge yawn, he left the potion room, rubbing his eyes blearily as he locked the door with a flick of his wand and finally headed to bed. He was sucked into dreamland the moment his head hit the soft pillow and the silky sheets of his four-poster bed, not to wake until the sun was high in the sky the next day.

 - oOo D oOo R oOo A oOo R oOo R oOo Y oOo -

_7.30am_ _02/12/20XX Tuesday_

_I woke up early as usual, but I think Draco is still asleep. He must be very tired to sleep so late. Maybe I should cook breakfast for him. He would probably be hungry when he wakes up. Oh and I had a scary dream last night. I was trying to run away in my dream but I could not. Everything was black. A pair of yellow eyes appeared. They keep blinking. I think they were trying to come closer to me. It was scary and even though I kept trying to wake up, I could not. I hope I don’t have such dreams anymore._

 - oOo D oOo R oOo A oOo R oOo R oOo Y oOo -

Draco jolted awake to the sound of running water coming from the direction of the kitchen. In his semi-asleep state, he forgot that young Potter was currently in the house. Glancing at the clock by his bedside, ‘ _9:30 A.M._ _’_ , he mentally noted, as he hauled himself off the bed and skulked out of his bedroom door, which led directly to the kitchen. The sight before him left him in a moment’s surprise; the dining table was filled with a variety of breakfast items like crispy bacon and sunny-side-up eggs. He leaned against the doorway and watched as Harry washed up pans and plates, smirking as Harry turned around and jumped at the sight of the blonde standing silently behind him.

“Uh, I uh, made breakfast for you since you seemed very tired…” Harry’s voice trailed off nervously as he shifted his weight from his left leg to the right and back to the left again, beginning to doubt if he had made the correct decision of making breakfast.

The smirk on Draco's face only widened further as he spoke with his usual drawl, "Care to join me, Potter?" before settling down to tuck into the spread laid before him. '  _It's surprisingly good,_  ' Draco silently mused, '  _Not that I'll tell him though._ '

After the meal Draco cleaned up with a flick of his wand and put all the dishes and pans back to where they belonged, to Harry's amazement. Making a mental note to bring Harry's wand from his apartment, Draco hurried off to the potions room absentmindedly and unlocked it, followed by an inquisitive Harry. Upon seeing the numerous test subjects, no, animals, his eyes widened with joy and he squealed, causing Draco to jump, for he had not noticed Harry trailing after him.

Harry had immediately taken to a small white puff that was seated on its haunches in the middle of one of the cages while hissing at the other kittens that wandered too closely, before starting to groom itself. It had a different air to it compared to the other kittens, and turning pleading puppy eyes to Draco, Harry gazed hopefully at the blonde. It only took one look at Harry's face, and Draco let out a small sigh in defeat, reached into the cage and ever-so-gently lifted the said kitten out of the cage and handed it to Harry.

"Don't you dare come into this room if I hadn't given you permission to do so." Draco scowled, ushering the raven-haired boy out of the room and closed the door behind him. "Nosy prat."

 - oOo D oOo R oOo A oOo R oOo R oOo Y oOo -

_10.55am 02/12/20XX Tuesday_  
_I got a kitten! It is so cute it almost seems proud. Reminds me of Draco in some way , the way it keeps itself clean and how it seems to think it's the boss hehe. I shall name it Dragon. I wonder if it likes milk._


	10. What is this memory?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** { } means that Harry thinking about whatever is in those curly brackets, but not acting it out. Lets just also put it out there that he's in another land there. Italics among normal font means that (whoever) is thinking about what is in italics, Bold (apart from this part) is to emphasise stuff, and that whole chunk in italics is just showing harry in another land. Read on for more details (duh)***
> 
> Savvy?

While Harry played with Dragon, Draco had begun his testing. He took the first labelled potion, 'A', off the shelf and proceeded to feed the first puppy he had retrieved from one of the cages. The enthusiastic Yorkshire puppy wagged its tail with all it had, and Draco felt a pang of guilt course through him, but the feeling disappeared as quickly as it came. Steeling himself, Draco tagged the puppy and coaxed it into drinking the potion, after which he conjured up a separate cage and put the puppy in it. He would need to monitor its condition as the hours passed. He repeated this gloomy process with the remaining animals; after he reached out towards the last potion bottle and turned around, he realised that he was one test subject short. He had begun to think of the animals as test subjects- that made the whole process much easier to digest.

"Ah that white kitten..." Draco muttered noncommittally to himself as he locked up the cages, vanishing all of them with a cover-up charm and left the room looking like nothing was there, except the original furniture, in the first place.

_________<Outside>__________

Harry fed the small little kitten some full-cream milk that he had found in the fridge and watched the little ball of elegant fluff slowly inch towards the dish of milk. It took an apprehensive lick of the white liquid presented before it, before starting to lick it furiously. Harry beamed with satisfaction as he watched the kitten, no, Dragon, drink the milk. He stretched out an apprehensive hand towards busy Dragon and began to stroke it. It froze for a moment, turning around to glare at what monstrosity had dare touch its fur and raised a tiny paw to swat away Harry's hand, before turning around to continue drinking the milk first.  _'Oh... Maybe Dragon needs more time to warm up to me I guess..._ ' Harry thought, backing off. For the rest of the day, Harry tried successfully to befriend Dragon, and his hard work paid off- by the end of the afternoon they were the best of friends. 

When Draco finally left his room, as the grandfather clock chimed 4 P.M., he walked into the hall to see a dreadfully cute picture. Harry was curled up on the Slytherin green and sliver mixed beanbag, and the kitten too was curled up next to Harry's head, both soundly asleep. A smile crept onto Draco's face as he gazed at the innocent sleepyheads in front of him, forgetting that he had come out to resume the experiment on the kitten. 

'I guess it won't hurt to let him keep it, I can always find another...' Draco murmured to himself, as he turned away to prepare to deatomise away to get another test subject. Within seconds, he was out of the apartment and off to find another creature.

______<Meanwhile>______

_Harry glanced around nervously. He looked down onto the ground, which seemed much higher from his eyes right now than before. He gazed at his attire- some dull coloured sweater of some sort, with a white-ish collared shirt with a tie on the inside. A wave of confusion washed over Harry as he wondered where the Merlin he was. He seemed to be in a really large hall, filled with many others he didn't recognise wearing clothes similar to his, except some were draped with long robes. Most were seated and having their meal, but as he turned away from a conversation he was having with a girl who had dark brown hair tied into a ponytail, he saw someone he recognised._

_Draco._

_{"Draco!" Harry tried to call out," It's me! Harry! Where are we..." }_

_Harry trailed off as he realised that while he was trying to shout out to Draco, no voice emerged from his throat, and a horrified expression had come upon Draco's face. He also realised that_ this _Draco seemed to be much younger than the Draco he knew. Draco backtracked a few steps, before turning around and slinked away at a rapid pace. Harry instinctively followed him, turning away from the girl and rushed out of the hall after Draco._

_{'What's going on what is happening I don't understand why is Draco so young and where am I?'} Endless questions swarmed Harry as he continued to follow Draco while pushing past a sudden swarm of students.He trailed after Draco, down long corridors and past a large cage,and into a dark bathroom. From the back of the bathroom, Harry saw Draco's figure hunched over a sink, in a white long sleeved shirt. He was **crying.**_

_"_ I know what you did Malfoy _." Harry heard himself saying,"_ You hexed her, didn't you _?"_

_{'Malfoy?' Harry questioned, unheard,'Is he not called Draco?"}_

_Scowling, Draco raised his hand and flung something at Harry as a bolt of odd coloured light flew out of the item in Draco's hand and headed towards Harry, but Harry side-stepped it effortlessly. He wondered for a moment in awe, how had he managed to avoid that shot when he didn't even know what was coming? Harry tried to talk again, but when he failed once more the realisation suddenly hit him. He was in a dream, but a very life-like dream at that, and he had absolutely no control over this much larger Harry body. Harry immediately retaliated,  flinging another bolt of light towards Draco, who too dodged it by jumping to Harry's left, and the bolt hit the mirror behind him. Harry ran after the blonde and turned the corner, facing a whole row of urinals, and was met with another bolt towards his face._

_{'Why are Draco and I fighting in the bathroom with this method of flinging bolts-of-light things?' Harry thought, mildly panicky}_

_Harry dodged behind the cubicles' walls  and felt himself breathing heavily. Water spurted from a nearby busted water pipe, almost landing on him as he shakily peered over the wall he was leaning on. Nothing._

_A thought came upon Harry and he bent down, preparing to look for Draco's feet through the gap below the toilet cubicles, but Draco was one thought process ahead of him and Harry almost took a face-full of the bolt of light._

_{'If Draco is  wizard, then he must be casting spells at me, and I'm casting them back. Doesn't that make me a wizard too? Ah I must be holding a wand then?' Harry suddenly had a moment of epiphany as his then-larger-dream-body avoided the attack skillfully._ _}_

_Harry ran past the cubicles, shooting spells into each, expecting Draco to be there, but he was not. Finally he reached the end of the long row of toilet cubicles, and saw Draco's figure facing him, wand outstretched._

"Sectumsempra!"  _Harry heard himself cry out as his spell hit its mark. With a grunt, Draco flew backwards on impact with the spell and landed on the bathroom floor with a loud splash. Breathing heavily, Harry advanced slowly towards where he last saw Draco, and the sight before his eyes left him stunned and without words._

_{'Oh Merlin what have I done why why did I do that what was that spell', Harry thought, frenetic, as he saw Draco, now immobilized, lie splayed out on the bathroom floor, gasping in pain.}_

_Harry was absolutely horrified at his actions and inched towards the figure on the wet bathroom floor, gasping and crying out with pain as red liquid, no, blood, seeped out of  his white shirt, oozing through the thin shirt and staining it, and flowing out into the water pooled on the floor, colouring it a dark red. The blonde had his eyes tightly squeezed shut and Harry, Harry, was totally mortified with his actions._

_{'NO! No no no no Draco no I am so sorry Draco Draco what have I done I am so sorry-' Harry cried out, aghast with his actions. He wanted to reach out towards Draco, hug him, apologise, tell him he didn't mean it and it would all be okay but-}_

**Sandpaper.**

**______________________ **

Dragon awoke, and stretched itself to its fullest length, blinking sleepily, before feeling like there was something wrong with his new friend. The boy seemed very pale and beads of cold sweat was trickling down his forehead, and he was fidgeting uncomfortably in his sleep. A small gasp escaped his lips and he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and frowned. Dragon decided that he needed to step in, and trotted to Harry's face and started licking. The frown ceased, and Harry blearily awoke to the sight of Dragon licking him with his small pink rough sandpaper tongue. Tears welled up in Harry's eyes and he pulled Dragon in closer to him as tears spilled over his eyes' rims. 

"I... I did such a horrible thing to Draco... Was it real? How could I?" Harry sobbed into the white fur. 

At the worst possible time ever, Draco strolled into the hall, having heard a small commotion, clothed in nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, only covering his southern parts. His torso was exposed and his blonde hair wet and dripping, as he had just come out of the shower, was slicked backwards. Harry turned his tear-streaked face towards the half-naked Draco, and caught sight of the pale sleek scars splayed over his torso from the fight in Harry's dream.

Distressed from the sight that lay before him, as well as the fear that what had happened in his dream was actually real, Harry jumped off the beanbag, trying to put as much distance as he could between Draco and himself. But a wave of pain overwhelmed Harry as he stood up, piercing his head and brain, and while clutching his head, Harry collapsed, unconscious, while curling into a fetal position. 

"HARRY!"

 


	11. Assassination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, same rules (?) apply *** { } means that Harry thinking about whatever is in those curly brackets, but not acting it out. Lets just also put it out there that he's in another land there. Italics among normal font means that (whoever) is thinking about what is in italics, Bold (apart from this part) is to emphasise stuff, and that whole chunk in italics is just showing harry in another land. Read on for more details ***  
> I am so sorry I know this is supposed to be a drarry fic but bear with me HAHAHA since I had this idea I have to finish it yall will get your fluff, maybe more I haven't decided that yet, once this shit is cleared up ok.

_The raven haired boy cracked open his eyes only to find that he had awakened in a strange dark place. Feeling light-headed, it took him a while before he gathered his bearings and struggled to stand. Yellowish lights flickered on and as his eyes adjusted to the sudden increase in brightness, he discovered that he was standing atop a brick path, lined with the traditional British black lamp posts. Straining his eyes to see into the distance ahead of him, to try to see if the road led to somewhere, if anywhere at all, Harry then realised that he couldn't make out an end to the road that lay ahead of him. He turned around, only to find out that the situation was exactly the same in the other direction._

_Tossing an imaginary coin in his head, since he presumed staying where he was wouldn't help in any manner, Harry turned and started to head down one of the paths. This odd place was unnaturally quiet; all that he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat and footsteps. All of a sudden, his seemingly enhanced sharp senses picked up some traces of sound in the deathly quiet place- a wave-like soft rippling against the floor. He picked up his pace and hurried forward, throwing nervous glances behind and around him, from where he seemed to hear the rustling from, before noticing that the lamp posts (that were quite a safe distance behind him, or so he judged) were slowly extinguishing one by one. The darkness crept up to him at an ever increasing pace and he panicked, running forwards faster than ever, throwing wary glances behind him as yellow eyes rocketed towards him when suddenly-_

* * *

 

Draco tossed and turned restlessly on his bed, mind wandering to the events prior to the current time. The boy, young Harry Potter, had collasped, still unconscious on the guest bed in the neighbouring room, and Draco couldn't help but worry as he had watched the boy squirm uncomfortably under the covers earlier. Now, he lay on his bed while hoping to get some shut-eye before he continued working on the potion that would change Harry back to normal. It was close to completion, he could feel it in his bones, and merely needed to tweak some parts of it. He soon drifted off to sleep, not knowing about the events that were about to happen.

He was usually a light sleeper, but the events of the day seemed to have taken its toll on him as he sunk into bed, almost dead to the world. He did not hear the creak of the floorboards, nor did he hear the groan of the aged bedroom door as it was ever so slowly pushed open. He did not hear the light footsteps edge towards his bed, neither did he feel the side of the soft bed sink in slightly as a weight pressed down on it.

But all of a sudden, he felt it.

Small smooth hands pressed around his neck, holding down  _ever so_  tightly around the crevices of his neck with such vengeance and strength. Draco's eyes flew open at the unexpected awakening, only to gasp and try his best to breathe. His eyes started to water, through the blur he managed to make out the shape of a boy,  _THE_  boy, Harry. The grip around his neck only tightened further with inhuman strength as Draco pried at the hands around his neck desperately, trying to say something to put some sense into the Harry that was currently straddling him with a death grip on his neck, trying to make him let go so he could breathe. He failed, only to hear a satisfied hiss and cackle from the boy with glowing yellow eyes, who then opened his mouth and spoke in a low gruff tone.

"Ah, Draco, Draco, my dear Draco. You look just like your father, Lucius, with those terrified eyes looking at me like that. Funny how I remember it so clearly, even though the Malfoys were the first of those who betrayed me who had swore to me that they would never. Lies! " He ended off with a hateful snarl.

The scratchy deep voice sounded odd coming from the young Harry Potter, Draco briefly noted mentally as he cracked open an eye to look right at the seemingly possessed Harry.

**_'Gefahr!_** ' Draco managed, spluttering , finally taking a deep trembling breath as sparks shot out around his neck where Harry's hands were in contact with his skin. He watched distastefully as a jolt passed through Harry and noticed the yellow light in Harry's eyes going out while the boy collapsed backwards onto the bed like a puppet with its strings cut. He had made this defensive spell in anticipation of various assassination attempts since protection spells simply wasn't enough,  _wasn't enough to keep him alive,_ but he definitely wasn't expecting things to turn out this way. He knew who spoke to him in Harry's body the moment he saw those eyes, instant recognition, and right now, the situation couldn't possibly get any worse then it already was.


	12. In which he finally becomes big again

Draco massaged the slightly sore skin around his neck and cursed inwardly, a pang ( _of hurt_ ) jolting through him. He gazed forlornly at the once again unconscious figure beside him, and even though he knew Harry's body had been controlled by something,  _someone_ , making it necessary to render him immobile for the time being, he had hoped that he would not have to hurt him again. He leaned over the boy, gazing at his well-defined features, and as all the bottled-up feelings he felt for the golden boy welled up in his chest, he couldn't help but plant a gentle light kiss on his forehead.

"I'm sorry I had to do that to you," he murmured, worry flickering across his eyes for a second, before it vanished and eyes set in steel reappeared," I'll fix this mess I made, I promise."

A shadow crept across Draco's face as he bent over the limp figure on the bed and picked him up bridal style, ensuring that Harry's head was comfortably tucked into the nook of his shoulder before Draco moved out of his room and into the potions room. Setting Harry down in one of the large recliner armchairs in the room, Draco skulked over to his workbench and resumed his brewing.

Some hours into his work later, Draco finally struck jackpot. He gazed at the cauldron of now deep purple liquid with streaks of silver in front of him, there seemed to be something different about the aura of this attempt. After delicately measuring out a vial of the liquid, he fed it to a nearby shrunken mongrel and waited with bated breath. A low whine escaped from the puppy as it collapsed onto the floor of the cage while trembling furiously, as a wave of shivers swept through the little canine. Draco soon discovered that 'little' would not be the proper word to describe the dog, as merely a few seconds after, the once puppy had morphed back into its original size. He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and flicked his wand at the now snarling beast and it collapsed, breathing heavily.

Performing a few simple, followed by more complicated scans on the mongrel, Draco could then finally ascertain that this last batch that he brewed was most definitely stable. Trying it out on a few more animals and achieving the same results, a smirk finally broke out on his face. He let out a deep chuckle, "Who knew a lizard's leg would have been necessary? Even though it had been completely accidental..."

Scurrying to calculate and measure out the exact amount to give Harry, Draco swept around the room hurriedly. He had a nagging feeling at the back of his mind that he seemed to be forgetting something, something important yet dangerous, but he couldn't concentrate enough on anything else other than getting Potter back to normal. Pushing the sinking feeling out of the way so he could work on the measurements, he soon had a vial full of his newest concoction. He had never understood just how much of a genius he was, but right now he seemed to have realised the truth of that fact, for the most part.

For now though, he made his way towards the chair he had laid Harry to rest in, another small wave of guilt washing over him, and sat by the side of the sleeping child, running his plans through his mind for what seemed to be the hundredth time. Feed Harry the potion. Wait for it to work. Obliviate him (He cringed at the thought) then send him back to his apartment. And finally,  _finally,_  he would be able to rest, and maybe once in a long, long while, get Potter out of his head after all these years. Draco hadn't counted on seeing him again after so long, and most certainly not under those deplorable conditions.

(He suppressed a shudder at the thought of the tears in Harry's eyes after he read the letter, and when he saw that Malfoy was not dead after all, 'too evil' he had said, 'to die'. It was true, after all he hadn't expected Potter to have forgiven him after everything he had done during the war. He was Slytherin enough to recognise that no matter how much of a hero complex there was in the Gryffindor, some things most certainly couldn't be forgiven. Moping aside, he steeled himself once again, to the fact that he would never receive love, especially since he never did deserve it after all.)

Letting out a longing sigh as he gazed at the sleeping boy, he unstoppered the vial of purple liquid, before swiftly pouring the liquid down the boy's throat. Draco laid Potter back down on the reclined armchair and watched anxiously as the boy let out a soft gasp before twitching furiously on the bed for a few moments. A blink, and there was no longer a boy, but a man who now lay on the wing chair. Draco let out his breath he didn't know he was holding, and proceeded to do a number of scans to make sure that he was perfectly alright.

Okay so, feed Potter the potion, check. Wait for it to work (and check that he was alright), check. Obliviate hi- Mid-thought, Draco was hit with a series of uncontrolled tremors that racked his body violently and he collapsed onto the floor. His throat burned uncontrollably, as did the rest of his body, and he had a sinking feeling that his body had just reminded him what exactly that nagging feeling at the back of his mind was.

' _The_   _potion_!' he thought numbly as pain continued to sear his body, '  _I've put it off for way too long, firstly because of the war, then because it was simply too dangerous, with mates and bonding...'_ As Draco struggled to think straight, he heaved himself off the ground and stumbled towards his bathroom. He always kept  _that_ potion in the toilet because it's the last place anyone would go to destroy anything. That, and the fact that he didn't want to mix it up with any of the other brews. He reached his toilet in record time, considering he almost couldn't feel his legs anymore, and fumbled to unlock the secret chamber behind his toilet mirror.

"Salazar Slytherin!" Draco hissed, reaching out to grab the green potion that was supposed to be behind the mirror as it swung open like Hogwarts' guarding portraits, and stopped short. All that there was left in the shelf was an empty flask. ' _This is not good_ ,' Draco growled in his head, ' _Not good at all. Father. I need Father here now. I don't think I can...'_

Too late did he realise that he had left his wand on his workbench, so he concentrated every last ounce of energy he had left from the pain and cast his Patronus.

"Tell Father I need him at my apartment now. The potion, it ran out and I can't make a new batch in time. I need him here now. Go. " Draco watched weakly as his Patronus nodded in reply and headed through the wall of his apartment.

The walls of his toilet swirled and he collapsed onto the floor, his vision turning black.


	13. In which Lucius Malfoy makes his appearance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh for the purpose of the plot, Snape didn't die during the war ok!

Lucius Malfoy was having a bad day.

The day had started normally enough; he had awakened to the sound of birds chirping, his daily coffee and breakfast was on his bedside stand, along with a note from his wife that she had gone to buy some jewelry. ' _Spending unnecessarily again_ ,' he thought dryly, ' _Well, it is not as though we can't afford it._ ' Rufous, his trusty owl, had brought him today's papers, and he peered at it cautiously, to avoid being shocked by the headlines, seeing that his whole household (even the house-elves) had gotten a rude shock just recently when the blasted newspapers had reported that his son was dead when the Aurors attacked. He scoffed at the thought, as if a Malfoy could be taken down by those useless Aurors so easily.

And then the trouble stuck.

One of his newer house-elves, ' _Daffodil was it_?' had popped into his room with a package addressed to him. Upon opening it, he discovered someone had mailed him a large treacle pie, with no name attached. He especially hated sweet desserts like that, so feeling exceptionally generous, he had told the elf to take it to the kitchen and share it with the house-elves that were free at the moment. That was his mistake. Barely five minutes later, house-elves repeatedly apparated into his bedroom, confessing their undying eternal love to the older Malfoy. Apparently, some prankster had decided it was a good idea to put some love potion into the pie, and since he had given it to Daffodil to share, all those who ate it were now affected by the effects of the potion.  _Just wait till he got to the bottom of this matter_ , he fumed, yelling at the next love-struck elf that apparated into his bedroom.

"If one more elf pops into my bedroom again," Lucius all but roared, his voice echoing down the extensive hallways of the Malfoy Manor, "Then they can expect to be given clothing and be told to retire!"

His threat seemed to work, and at long last he could finally get the peace and quiet he desired in the mornings. Finishing his last sip of his morning coffee, he pulled a book off his shelf and settled down into his tall brown winged  chair.

Yes, Lucius Malfoy was having a bad day indeed.

About half an hour later, a series of knocks sounded at his bedroom door.

"Come in," Lucius sighed, wondering who could be at the door now, after he had finally gotten his peace-a full thirty minutes of it. He watched distastefully, expecting the door to swing open, but it didn't. Instead, a silvery lion pawed its way through the door, and bowed respectfully. Eyebrows raised slightly - Draco only sent his Patronus when there was great trouble or when he needed to clear things up quickly - so this could only mean one of the two. A nod, and his son's weary pleading voice floated unnaturally out of the lion.

"Father, I need you at my apartment now. The potion, it ran out, and I can't make a new batch in time. Please, help, Father it hurts."

Lucius Malfoy froze.

Oh yes, Lucius Malfoy was having a bad day, but it just got a whole lot worse. 

* * *

 

_They were out in the field, where even the greenest of grasses paled in comparison with his eyes. Draco could not help but be captivated by them, even when he had been merely a first year those beautiful emerald eyes had always fascinated him._

_'What are you thinking of, Draco?' The golden boy chuckled as he playfully swatted Draco's cheek, '...Mosquito!' Harry lied sheepishly as Draco sent him a glare at the gesture._

_'Thinking about your eyes, love. What else could I be thinking about when I'm with you?' The blonde murmured, gazing at the said eyes in front of him. A flood of red rushed to the raven-haired man's cheeks and he smiled ever so shyly, the most amazing smile Draco had ever seen. All the thoughts that were accumulating in his mind instantly vanished as he was swept up in the moment with Harry._

_His Harry._

_They were finally alone together, to do anything and everything that they wanted, be it to whisper sweet nothings to each other, or simply to just enjoy their time together. And no one could disturb them, because there was no one within miles of where they were._

_(_ _Ah, if this is a dream, I never want it to end. Never._ _)_

_But as all good things have to come to an end, so did this. One moment the blonde was holding Harry in his arms, enjoying the scenery, and the next, he was being violently shaken awake in the dormitory. By Blaise._

_"Bugger off, you prat!" Draco snapped, irate at being awoken from his perfect dream, "The perfect dream, ruined yet again by Blaise Zabini." He sneered._

_"I always forget how irritable you are in the mornings, Dray, you know I'm still waiting for you to tell me those 'perfect' dreams of  yours" smirked the boy, amused, "Hurry up, you have already slept through breakfast, and Potions is up next in ten. I grabbed some pie for you though."_

_Groaning, Draco reluctantly hauled himself out from under the covers, momentarily shivering at the sudden cold. As he shuffled to the toilet, he couldn't help thinking that he felt like he had been in this moment before._

_'Is this what they call deja-vu?' he pondered briefly, 'But this all seems so familiar... Far too familiar...' It all felt like he was re-living an instant of his life. Had he ever been in this position before? It seemed to him that he needed to wake up, but yet he was so very tired, and right now, staying here seemed like the best choice._

_An odd feeling stirred within him at that realisation, and a low whisper resounded in his ears._

_"Search for the one who is to be bonded to you, Draco Lucius Malfoy. Failure is not an option. The time is_ _now_ _."_

* * *

 

After recovering from his initial shock over how much in pain his son sounded, Lucius Malfoy moved. He swept out of the comfortable wing chair and rushed to his potions cupboard, or to be more exact, the portrait next to the supposed potions cupboard. It was not surprising to learn that Draco inherited his cautious side from his father.

"Siamo Liberi!"

The large portrait swung open instantly, narrowly missing the older Malfoy's head and he let out a colourful string of curses. Briefly considering where he had last put the potion, it wasn't until he had actually scrutinised every single potion on every single shelf did he discover that the potion in question was not there. A shred of panic coursed through him, and he begun to re-look through the shelves. Upon closer inspection, he realised that the shelves were in fact, dust-free.

"POPPY?" Lucius roared, and almost immediately a pop, the house-elf appeared in front of him.

"Yes, Master Malfoy?" The seasoned elf inquired calmly, not the least intimidated by the seething Malfoy, having seen much worse before. "What can Poppy do for you in this fine day, Master?"

"Which one of you cleaned my shelves?" A quiet and eerie sort of calm descended upon him, "I want them here this instant. They have some explaining to do."

"That would be Violet, Master Malfoy. She seemed to be very affected by dust in the house." Poppy snapped her fingers, and with a pop, Violet appeared before the two, trembling violently.

"Explain yourself. Why is there a bottle missing?" The older Malfoy's tone was so icy, one would have assumed that winter had made its way early to the Malfoy Manor.

The trembling house-elf burst into tears. "Vio-Violet is very sorry, Sir Master Malfoy! Violet just... Just wanted to help keep the house very very clean, Sir! But... But Violet was c-c-careless and... Dropped the gr-green potion!" The elf couldn't continue much more as wailing soon took the place of speaking. "Vio-Violet will punish herself by hitting her head repeatedly!" She managed dramatically, before Disapparating with another loud pop.

"Trouble, all of them!" Lucius snarled, eyes narrowed into slits, "I suppose I have to find Severus now. Tell Narcissa when she's back that I've gone out, probably won't be back today." He instructed, and receiving a nod in reply, he apparated to where Severus was. He had already wasted precious time talking to that dim-witted elf, and he couldn't afford to waste any more. Too much was at stake.


	14. The Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo I apologise if it now seems messy or something haha just take note that the underlines after the paragraphs means another scene ok! :) Thanks for reading and do vote! I kinda slipped in some anagrams huehue and a reference to one of my favourite movies of all times so...

'A big man in dark robes with authority over hundreds of students in Hogwarts. Take that away, and what are you?'

"Severus Snape, owner of the Siptoon Tamers, only the largest potion chain shop in the wizarding world. Oh, and not to forget, one of the top 10 richest bachelors as quoted by Bofrés. Now, if you would excuse me..." The ex-potion teacher answered snidely, glaring at the nosy reporter for a few more seconds, before stalking back into his house.

"Honestly, I open the door for a normal interview and what do I get? Snarky comments from a useless creature..." The robed man snarled to himself, huffing irritably. He strode towards his living room, snatching up the newspapers by the fireplace before heading towards the couch.

'My my, Severus!' a haughty voice chortled from behind him,' Have your defenses come down to this? No wards to keep unwanted visitors from popping by?'

Snape stilled for a moment, feeling an end of a wand poke into his back, before relaxing as he burst out into a loud guffaw after recognition dawned on him.

"I'd welcome you any day, Lucius. You are far from being an unwanted visitor! Now, to what do I owe the honour of your presence, Sir Malfoy the Great?" He questioned light-heartedly as he turned to face his visitor.

At the question, Lucius Malfoy's face hardened, eyes narrowed. If he had been an outsider, Severus might have taken that look to mean that Lucius was uncomfortable with his question, but since they had always been close since their days at Hogwarts, he understood perfectly that the look could only mean one thing.

Someone was in trouble.

Big trouble.

And Lucius had come to him for help.

* * *

 

Harry awoke with a start. 'Crap, did I fall asleep on my armchair again?' he mentally groaned, a look of horror creeping up his face,' My boss is so going to kill me...' before stopping his train of thought. This wasn't his apartment. He peered down at the chair he was on. This wasn't his armchair either. Standing up, he winced as his head throbbed uncomfortably before wandering around this unfamiliar place. Cauldrons filled with bubbling liquids of various colours were lined up neatly along a workbench of sorts, and numerous stoppered vials were on the shelves flanking the workbench. Harry moved towards the shelves, and upon closer inspection, saw that the vials were labelled in a neat, cursive scrawl.

"Now where have I seen that handwriting before?" Harry pondered out loud, before walking towards a notebook filled with the same scrawl lying open on the table.

_XX .XX. 20XX_   
_Test subjects reacted well to Liquid Z. Grew back to original sizes after dosing them with liquid volume 7/77th of their original size._   
_Potter- 77kg_   
_7/77 X 77000 = 7000_   
_(Illegible numerical scribbles)_   
_Liquid volume - 0.07777 dm^3_

" _Potter"??? What was this person doing for me? Well, whoever this apartment belongs to certainly doesn't know me very well..._

The raven-haired man felt around his pockets for his wand, but discovered it to be missing. Noticing the wand next to the notebook, he snatched it up without a moment's thought and exited the room.

"Is anyone there?" Harry called out cautiously, eyes alert and ears wide open for any sound in response. Hearing a groan echo from one of the other rooms, Harry immediately ran at break-neck speed towards the sound, wand outstretched. He entered a bedroom with a large four-poster bed with silky sheets and, hearing yet another moan coming from the direction of what Harry assumed to be the toilet, he hurried there.

Then the realisation sunk in. No wonder he found the bedroom to be familiar.

Lying on the floor of the bathroom was an extremely pale Draco Malfoy, and he was enveloped in a silvery hue, looking like he was in some kind of an oval orb.

"Malfoy?"

* * *

 

_After getting dressed and having spent 'an unearthly amount of time in the bathroom for a lad' as Blaise had so kindly put it, Draco left the common room with his childhood friend. Pansy had left earlier with the other girls, and the other Slytherins had long gone for breakfast. He briefly recalled the odd voice he had heard earlier, but pushed it aside to the back of his mind. A disconcerting feeling washed over the blonde the moment he stepped onto the corridor, and he paused, halting his steps in the process. Ahead of him, Blaise, hearing the footsteps stop, turned around and shot him a questioning look, eyeing the pure-blood, who had turned a rather alarming shade of white, carefully._

_"Draco? You alright?"_

_Then he remembered._

_The events came flooding back to him like a tidal wave. Opal necklace. Katie Bell. Curse. Dumbledore. Assassinate. Failure. The Dark Lord. Draco was overwhelmed by the sudden flood of emotions surfacing all at once, and to Blaise's disappointment, asked him to head to class before him, brushing it off with a curt "Have something to attend to."._

_Blaise grudgingly obliged, knowing how much of a toll the Dark Lord's order had on Draco. He had seen it for himself firsthand, watching silently as the bright and bubbly boy he once knew slipped away into the darkness, leaving all but a shell of its past glory in the man. He saw the fear and despair in those dull grey eyes, and lamented the loss of the joy and sparkle in the once warm mercury eyes. That special sparkle that only glinted in Draco's eyes when Draco was insulting Potter too had disappeared, along with snarky comments for the golden boy._

_Blaise could only watch as the scared boy was made to grow up in that short period of time, forced by his circumstances, and he could only help Draco by being there for him as much as he could, but it didn't help that Draco was pushing him away. He threw one more glance at Draco's direction, brows furrowed as he saw the blonde stagger and lean against the wall with a sigh._

_Then he turned away, and left._

_Draco peered shakily at the pie in his hand and stared at it. He had lost his appetite the moment he thought about the recent spate of events, but knew he had to eat something to last the morning. He nibbled the pie distastefully and against his better judgement, decided to head down to the Great Hall to grab an apple. A green apple. Not only were they delectable, they were also his favourite colour, he thought distractedly as he headed through the maze of corridors._

_Preoccupied with his thoughts, (thoughts, not feelings, Malfoys never show and think about their feelings) Draco barely noticed that he had arrived at the Great Hall if it weren't for the sudden increase in noise all around him. Snapping his head up, he gazed straight into the eyes of the one he had unintentionally cursed. Katie Bell. The guilt surged through Draco and he cursed inwardly, before turning sharply on his heels and left the hall, apple all but forgotten. He rushed to the one place he knew he would be alone, thoughts eating away at him._

_Draco stood before the mirror, breathing heavily. He glared loathingly at the reflection looking back at him, gaunt, pale and utterly hideous. He had never intended to hurt anyone else other than Dumbledore, but his plans had failed him once more. He knew what would have happened had the girl come into contact with the necklace completely, and could only thank whatever lucky stars that she hadn't been killed. He would never be able to live with himself then, but it wasn't as though he could do so now._

_Every day was a living torture, the stress and pressure was already eating their way into him, he could feel it._

_Every day he went to bed hoping he wouldn't wake up, wouldn't have to feel that way towards the one who will never return his feelings, wouldn't have to kill the Headmaster._

_But every day he woke up, felt that way, and had to kill, and it was all taking a very large toll on him._

_Alone in the toilet, Draco finally let his mask slip. Washing his face angrily, he couldn't help it as sobs escaped and racked his lean frame. Why had he been born into this family, and forced into this? It all wasn't fair. He didn't want to become a Death eater, but here he was. He didn't want to have feelings, feelings always made one weak, his father had always told him, but here he had. He also didn't want to fight to kill, but here he had to. He was so absorbed in his self-pity that he didn't hear the footsteps echo behind him as he let out another round of sobs._

_The next thing he knew, Harry was behind him and speaking accusingly._

_Draco's brain did not register a single thing Harry had said. There were two words echoing throughout his mind, and as it got louder Draco simply lost it, and went along with those words._

**_Test_ _._ **

_He flung a hex at Potter, who swiftly dodged it and sent back one._

**_Mate_ _._ **

_He dashed out of the jinx's way._

**_Test_ _._ **

_As Potter turned to the row of toilet cubicles, Draco threw yet another hex and promptly missed._

**_Mate_ _._ **

_The fight continued on, not one party getting hit by any of the spells cast until-_

**_Test_.**

_"Crucio!" Draco began, but was too slow as Potter, merely one second ahead of him, cast a spell at him and hit him squarely in the chest. He was flung backwards by the impact, and let out a strangled cry._

**_Pathetic._ **

_He had lost to Harry Potter._

_Sprawled on his back on the floor, the second word in his mind made itself obvious as he vaguely felt deep cuts explode on his chest. The odd little voice whispered again at him as he felt Harry's guilty stare on him._

**_"_ _Mate_ _."_ **

_Draco lost consciousness, but not before a burning sensation rattled him down to his bones._

**_"You have found him."_ **

 


	15. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be a while again before the next chapter though, national exams are HERE! :(  
> Ggwp :'(  
> But! Leave comments and kudos yes hehehe :)

Draco vaguely registered the cold hard floor he was lying on. A moment ago, he was re-living some past experiences he would have preferred very much to forget, and it seemed even his brain was bent on ignoring him today- seeing that his limbs were clearly out of commission. Where was his father? His Patronus would have already reached the Manor and conveyed the message without a doubt, yet his father was nowhere to be seen, not that Draco could see either. Everything looked like a blur right now, his body parts were most definitely going on a strike and -

Draco never got to finish that thought.

Heat burned uncontrollably through his body, his flesh and his bones alike all felt like they would combust and turn to ashes immediately. ( _No_ , he was not being melodramatic this time.) The pain was unbearable, on par with, no, far more searing than when the Dark Lord had decided to indulge Draco with a bout of Crucio curses, as punishment for his father's failures.

Draco cried out, writhing and thrashing wildly on the cold floor, desperate, desperately trying to extinguish the flames that had ignited in him to no avail.

Severely distressed, Draco failed to hear the concerned call that echoed across the room as he flailed madly on the ground, his broken burning body now exuding a shimmering silvery mint colour.

* * *

 

Lucius sped through the events that had transpired earlier. After he finished giving a honourable mention about the vast stupidity of most house-elves, he faltered, casting a nervous look at the dark haired man who looked like he was brooding.

"You do have a spare potion?" The older blonde asked, cursing inwardly at the slight crack in his voice, "Yes, Severus?"

Snape snapped back to reality by the question. A shadow of uncertainty made its way up, and he murmured, "I do have it. But based on what you have said..." his voice trailed off, "I don't think we might make it in time." He added quietly. "We best hurry, and see whether we can salvage whatever situation Draco might be in. After all, we both know how wild the magic becomes when it is first awakened, not to mention the fact that we haven't the slightest idea what his Animia is." Lucius' thoughts briefly went back to the time he had awakened, trying to forget all the intense emotions and pain he had felt back then. If it weren't for Severus... He blanched at the thought and nodded to the other man.

Turning sharply on his heel, Snape swept up various vials of stoppered potions before heading to his fireplace together with Lucius, who gazed questionably at his choice of travel. "Unstable magic," the older man shrugged, before grasping a handful of Floo powder.

"Dragon's Lair!"

* * *

 

"Malfoy?"

The blonde lay on the ground, not moving at all. Harry inched closer, wand slightly lowered but still trained on Malfoy.

"Malfoy, are you alright? What are you-"

The silvery hue around Malfoy suddenly dimmed, before bursting into a bright mixture of orange and yellow. Harry stared. It was oddly captivating, and he was certain he would have continued to stare, if it weren't for the loud cry that emerged from the previously deathly still man, followed by the wild thrashing. Harry's eyes widened almost comically and he panicked.

"Malfoy?" He called anxiously, voice rising by two whole octaves, "Merlin Malfoy! Calm down, are you alright? Malfoy? DRACO!" Harry all but roared, rushing towards the bucking man almost immediately. He approached the now orange orb and slowed, wondering what it was, before plunging in. (Typical Gryffindor behaviour, he would later admit.) He entered the orb without any major incident, apart from an odd tingling in his arms. Two large calloused hands pressed down on Draco's arms, trying to hold him down and prevent him from flailing, before recoiling instantaneously. Harry yelped, he certainly hadn't counted on Malfoy being so hot.  _Not in the 'handsome-prat' sense, although he was one,_ Harry thought noncommittally as he gazed at Draco's long lashes, ( _Focus Harry!_ ) he chided himself mentally, but Malfoy was literally burning up.  _Far too hot to be a normal fever,_ he thought darkly,  _Magical perhaps?_

Using the wand he now knew to be Malfoy's, Harry cast a number of strong cooling charms. He garnered that they wouldn't be enough though, and wondered if he should put Malfoy in a freezing bath. After all, the heat emanating from Malfoy seemed far too dangerous for him to be left in that state for long, and he decided to settle with a simple ' _Aguamenti_ '! Water sprung out from the tip of the wand and onto the overheating blonde, and vapourised immediately. Harry gawked at the sight. Merlin, was Draco's temperature over water's boiling point? It was a marvel Harry's hands were fine, despite the mild discomfort he was feeling. He channeled his thoughts to producing a larger jet of water, and felt his magic pulse through the slightly resistant wand.

Within seconds, the room was filled with steam, steam which clung to Harry's skin uncomfortably. He shifted, and decided that he would need something colder if he were to cool Draco down faster.

" _Glacius_!"

Freezing cold met burning hot and a thick cool white mist enveloped Harry and spread throughout the room. It felt much better against his skin, Harry decided, but the slight loss of sight due to the mist made him feel slightly vulnerable, although he continued to cast the charm. If it would make Draco feel better then he would do it. Silence pervaded in the apartment, apart from Draco's occasional moans and the fssshing sound as the cold touched Draco.

Then Harry heard the tell-tale sound of someone entering the apartment by Floo, from the whoosh of the fireplace in the hall, followed by an indistinguishable string of curses. A voice, low and deep, followed by another, slightly higher and smooth. Harry frowned, they were too far away for him to identify them. Pausing the freezing charm, he spun his wand around above him as he cast a disillusionment charm, followed by a  _Notice-Me-Not_ spell, along with other spells he had learnt from being an Auror, and shuffled closer towards the wall just outside of the bathroom, where he still had a clear aim at Draco.

* * *

 

Snape arrived first, cursing when he bumped his head as he stepped out of the fireplace. He had forgotten how much he hated travelling by the Floo Network, until now, that is. He stepped away from the fireplace, dusting himself down regally. He would have a word with Draco about the state of his fireplace after this matter was resolved.

If it were ever resolved.

Almost immediately, Lucius came through the fireplace. He shot a hurried look around the hall before making his was towards the room, hissing at Severus impatiently for him to "hurry up and stop dawdling". Snape merely sent an unamused glare in his direction and trailed after the other man, who had taken to scuttling down the hallway in a rather un-Malfoy manner. As worried as he was about his godson, rushing into it without a thought would be tricky. Even if Lucius was related by blood to Draco, there very well could be rejection by the Animia. It wasn't up to them to decide.

"I call dibs on the potion room!" Lucius' voice drifted from ahead of Severus. He suppressed an urge to roll his eyes and immediately headed towards the master bedroom, and stopped at the door.

Severus couldn't understand how Lucius had missed this, the whole damn room was filled with mist! The man must have been far more out of it than he had thought.

The dark haired man drew his wand, casting wind spells to get the mist out of the way. Anything could be hiding in there waiting to attack him and he wouldn't even see it coming. He stepped in cautiously, eyeing dark corners warily.

"Draco...?" He called, " It's your godfather, Severus. Remember me?" Severus had a bad hunch something wasn't right. Perhaps it was due to the thick mist around him. Perhaps it was because of how he seemed to hear moans coming from somewhere inside the damned mist. Or perhaps it was from the fact that he could now see his godson collapsed on the floor with the mist coming from around him, now that the wind spells seemed to have suddenly gotten stronger.

That definitely could not be good news.

"Lucius!"

* * *

 

Harry most certainly had not expected to see his old Potions professor standing in front of him. Good to know that the greasy git still looked and seemed as terrifying as Harry had remembered, he scoffed mentally.

Then positively paled.

If he were to be discovered, in this room right now, with Malfoy's wand in his hand and an unconcious Malfoy in front of him, Harry didn't need to be a genius to realise how bad this would look. He could only pray that Snape would be too concerned about Malfoy. Until, that is, Snape whirled around and called out for Lucius. Lucius Malfoy.

Great, just great. Honestly, could things  _possibly_  get any worse than this?

* * *

 

_Pain._

_Burning._

_Hurting._

_Can't - can't control._

_Fire._

_Mate._

* * *

 

Hearing his name from the master bedroom, Lucius turned around immediately and was there beside Severus in a matter of seconds. He turned his gaze towards the direction Snape was looking in and practically lost control.

"Draco!"

The older Malfoy rushed to the side of the collapsed Malfoy, a look of utter panic on his face. He didn't hesitate to reach out to his son, ignoring the hue around Draco, and a concerned exclamation from Severus.

"Lucius!" Severus hissed, "Don't!"

His warning fell on deaf ears as he watched Lucius rush up and try to touch Draco. ' _Nothing good comes out of rash actions_ ,' his grandmother used to croon, and Severus had to agree.

Lucius was repelled, thrown back violently, the moment his skin came into contact with the orange orb, letting lose a shout of pain as he collided into a cupboard against the back of the room.

Severus winced at the loud thud his friend caused as he made contact with the cupboard. He strode over, casting simple diagnostic spells to check if Lucius had any broken bones. He didn't. He scowled, and pulled the man up onto his feet roughly.

"Of course, you  **had**  to ignore me." He added haughtily, eyeing the older blonde.

"Am perfectly fine, thank you for your concern, Severus," Lucius bit out, slightly miffed. He dusted his robes and turned back to face Draco. "I didn't think he'll reject me so much," he added with a sigh, his pale face suddenly looking very aged, "I can hardly help him when he's already in this stage."

Lucius shared a knowing look with Severus and they both moved closer towards Draco, but stopped some distance from him and simply stood and watched.

* * *

 

Harry could not believe what he had just seen.

Why had Malfoy's father been thrown back when he tried to touch Draco? Harry had had no issue with that, apart from the odd tingling feeling in his arms. And what was the talk about Draco rejecting his father? He glanced at the two men, now watching silently as Draco writhed about, and felt a familiar sense of rage rise up inside him. Trust another Malfoy to evoke the exact same anger in him.

He didn't understand.

How could they just stand, and  _watch_ , as his  _son_ , his  _godson_ , was in so much pain? Why didn't they do something,  _anything,_  to help ease the pain? It almost seemed like they knew something about what Draco was going through, did they?

Harry was confused, and in desperate need of answers, when-

* * *

 

The pain was getting more intense by the minute. Draco didn't know how long had passed since he had collapsed onto the ground, but felt like he had been here for all eternity.

His limbs throbbed and it almost felt like his bones were melting and re-forming. He wasn't quite sure. He was hardly sure of anything that happened these days, the whole Potter incident had left him feeling like reality was overrated. He wondered where Potter was now. But that was hardly important now, was it?

Father had spoken about this before, told him about his inheritance of a rare kind of higher being. An Animia. They were immensely powerful, creatures of strong magical cores, and were highly revered by the wizarding world. The only problem was that they valued their secrets and privacy far more than the prestige that their kind had been bestowed with, and thus had all but hidden themselves away from the prying eyes of witches and wizards alike, with only a select few who had mates in the wizarding world leaving their created world. And it seemed that one of Draco's ancestors had been one of those said Animia.

Not all his ancestors after the Animia had been an Animia themselves, the gene had been known to only manifest in supposedly worthy individuals with extremely powerful inborn magical cores. It was just Draco's luck he was one of them. He couldn't remember when his father had realised he was one of them, but he remembered the long serious talk they had when Lucius had realised.

...

' _So when I come of age, I'll turn into my soul animal, and will have to either find my mate or be bonded to someone?"_

' _Soul animal or magical creature, yes. Only those with exceptionally powerful magical cores turn into a magical creature. From then on it works almost like an animagus, but you'll be able to perform magic even without your wand. Not to mention you'll be able to communicate with the creatures of your kind.'_

' _Father, what did you say your animal was? And, the transformation, did it hurt?'_

_'I didn't, but it's an owl, if you absolutely have to know. The transformation hurt terribly, but I'm glad I had your Godfather to help me through it. He was one of the few who knew about it. And I will be by your side the day you change, Draco.'_

...

His father had dropped the subject, and with the resurrection of the Dark Lord, Severus had helped Draco devise a potion to suppress the change, and Draco had been taking it even after the war, until now.

It was a terrible oversight, but Draco was fairly certain the day would have come sooner or later.

And it was all because of Potter.

Even up to this day, Draco couldn't fathom why it seemed like his every action was either caused by something Potter did, or a reaction to what Potter did. It had  _always_  been about him. Even right now, Draco knew that if it weren't for Potter, he would never have missed his dosage.

Draco felt his body twitch uncontrollably, and all of a sudden he was well aware of himself changing. He was finally transforming! The pain lessened considerably and the burning sensation fell to that of a mild heat, and he was aware of his body lengthening and his senses were all enhanced. Colours were exceptionally vibrant, and he could hear every sound, every breath taken, every heartbeat in the room, though he didn't quite have control over his new body as of now. (Father had mentioned it took a while to gain motor skills in the Animia's form the first time.) He stood up shakily, noting the presence of four feet and, upon glancing down, noted that they had sharp claws and were covered in a thick hide. His new body seemed highly muscular and tough and he suddenly realised the new appendages on his back. He tried it out cautiously, hearing the wind rush past his ears as he extended his wings to its full width, before bringing them back in. He turned, and saw his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

He was a dragon.

A magnificent, silver slender dragon.

His name had  _never_  seemed more fitting.


End file.
